


Confluence

by Elemental1025



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elemental1025/pseuds/Elemental1025
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU about how Dean got the amulet, takes place when Sam was at Stanford (written before "A Very Supernatural Christmas").  Dean, John and a scattering of OCs. OC POV. Brief mentions of Sam, Caleb and Jim.  Hints at Special!Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confluence

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Live Journal July 16, 2007. Okay, it's time to let this one go out into the ether too... it's the last completed fic to archive (the WIPs are another issue entirely). I'm nervous about letting this one go, because there's been so many things that have happened on the show since this was written, that have affected how a couple of things in this fic are viewed. But I still view those things (the potential for Special!Dean and the amulet itself) through this rather wide-eyed innocence. As a point of reference, I had the image of Phyllis Somerville (from an old episode of Law and Order called "Heaven", she played a head nurse) so firmly in my mind as Lynn, that is was like watching a TV episode unfold as I was writing this. This fic, more than any other that I've played with, made me wish I was a better writer to be able to do it justice.

Lynn Cummings made a rather feeble attempt to get the worst of the dust off her shirt before coming up front, but it was really a lost cause. It didn’t matter though; her customers were used to her habits, so they probably would have been more shocked if she didn’t look like she’d just been crawling around in someone’s attic.  
  
She had found some interesting trinkets at the Wentworth estate sale, including an item needing rather specialized handling that she’d known all along old Nathan had been hiding. Carl wasn’t back from his lunch yet, but she would be very glad to hand this particular piece over to him as soon as he was. It would be just an antique wedding band again after his careful tending, but right now it made her skin crawl just having it in her pocket.  
  
For now though, it was safe enough, so she turned her attention to more mundane things. In addition to the books and candles and various knick knacks every self-respecting ‘occult’ oriented shop had to sell, she also sold herbs and balms and jewelry from local artisans. Ria had been in that morning, more hurried and breathless than usual, and had dropped off a number of items. Her metal work was exquisite and Lynn could never keep her stuff in stock.  
  
This time she’d brought quite an assortment: earrings, bracelets, a few talismans with some real power to them… and an amulet. That was a special piece, she’d said. For a special person, someone who would need it, but she wouldn’t say anything more. Over the years Lynn had learned it was best not to ask Ria questions, but even as the piece sat hidden in it’s carved wooden box, she could feel the energy crackling around it. It wasn’t dangerous though -- she’d have known if it was -- and so she set it in the open display case up at the front. If someone needed it, she was going to try and make it as easy as she could for them.  
  
“Did you find it?” a voice raspy from too many years of smoking said behind her in a tone fit for a lord speaking to a servant. She turned around and found Carl regarding her expectantly.  
  
“Yes, the old bastard had it hidden in a desk in the library. Here,” she took it out of her pocket and thrust it into his hands, “fix it. Please.”  
  
He snorted haughtily and made his way into the back. Carl might not have been the most personable associate, but there was no one better to handle that sort of thing. The lunch browsers were finally thinning, and she had an appointment due to call shortly, so she made her way back behind the counter to grab the order she had oh, so carefully put together for this particular customer. John Winchester wasn’t her most difficult client by a long shot, but he was probably the most meticulous.  
  
Even with her careful sorting, she knew he was going to take a while going through his order, so she set up everything he would need at the end of the counter. And really, she didn’t blame him. Given what he used them for, the items needed to be exactly what he believed them to be. And it wasn’t like the government could slap a label on this stuff to verify authenticity. But that was one of the reasons she had a fairly large clientele of people like John: she was as meticulous as they were about her supplies, and word of mouth in that community was worth it’s weight in gold.  
  
The cuckoo clock behind the register struck 2pm, and on the dot, John walked into the shop, “Hey, Lynn. It’s good to see you.”  
  
“You too, John.” He was never much on conversation, but he was always pleasant to her. She’d heard stories, even from people he considered to be his friends, and taking in the look of him today she could well believe them.  
  
Here though, he had always been polite, and even friendly with Carl, though Carl wouldn’t have any of it. But chit chat definitely wasn’t his way so she got right down to business. “For once, I was able to track down everything on your list,” and she began carefully setting out the items in accordance with the inventory she’d been working from. He pulled his own notebook out and started checking off items and making notations that had to be in some sort of code since they certainly weren’t in English.  
  
As he studied each item, she was able to do a little studying of her own. He had always come in alone, so she’d never met either of his boys, but Caleb had told her that John’s youngest had just left and gone off to college. Most people would have been proud, elated even, but knowing something of their situation she knew how hard it must have been for John to let him go, and she wondered why they didn’t just set up shop in Palo Alto for awhile. But it wasn’t her business, and if John had a few more lines around his mouth and if he looked a little more dispirited than usual, she wasn’t going to mention it.  
  
Just then Carl appeared at her elbow, making her practically leap out of her skin. “Here,” he said, thrusting the ring back into her hand. “Good as new.” She grinned broadly. It was a beautiful ring and it would fetch a good price. Then she lean over and kissed his cheek, making the old dear turn beet red and flee to his alcove in the back.  
  
“Heh, that’s what you get for being too good at your job, Carl,” John called after him, a sly grin briefly brightening up his features, but his eyes never left his task. Lynn envied him that focus, especially as the jingle of her shop door drew her eyes yet again. This time someone was coming in instead of going out.  
  
It was a young man, but definitely not one of her normal college crowd. In fact, he didn’t immediately strike her as her usual sort of customer at all. But as he casually sized up every one of her afternoon patrons in the time it took him to make his way to the counter, she figured maybe he _was_ her sort of customer, so she wasn’t surprised when he eased up next to John and put a set of keys on the counter next to John’s elbow.  
  
John didn’t seem to notice him, and he grinned shyly at Lynn. He waited until John finally registered the pointed look the boy had been giving him before raising a dark blond eyebrow in Lynn’s direction. John, bless his heart, still seemed baffled, but Lynn saw the exact moment the light bulb went off in John’s head. The young man - presumably John’s eldest - gave Lynn a rueful look that had her choking back a giggle with some effort.  
  
John cleared his throat, “Lynn, this is my son Dean. Dean, Lynn.” At John’s official introduction, she gave Dean her hand and smiled, her eyes sparkling a bit with the shared joke they were having at John’s unwitting expense. His grip was firm and solid and he called her “ma’am”. She liked him immediately.  
  
John being John just shook his head and went back to his tallies while Dean immediately turned his attention to some of her treasures. As she figured, the cabinet with the collection of flashy blades caught his eye first, though they were mostly only for decorative use. She wasn’t sure if he would realize that or not, but when he didn’t linger she had a hunch maybe he had.  
  
There were only a few of her regulars left in the store by this time. She’d just gotten in a new shipment of crystals, and Carolyn, sweet but painfully seventeen, was poring through them like she expected to find a piece of her soul. Dean’s stroll around the room had brought him more or less directly to her, and Lynn bit back another chuckle. Yes, Dean definitely had an eye for pretty and shiny.  
  
Carolyn pretended he wasn’t there, clutching her selections in her left hand as her right continued to touch each remaining stone in turn. She did pause briefly to look at him when he said something Lynn couldn’t hear, but she just shook her head and moved to the next bin. He didn’t follow her, he just continued the one-sided conversation, and much to Lynn’s surprise, the girl eventually answered him.  
  
In fact, he seemed to have enticed her into a full fledged conversation. Lynn had rarely been able to get more than “yes” or “thank you” out of the girl, and when she finally did make her way to the register to pay for her purchases, Lynn noticed her cheeks were a little pink and she was _smiling_ , which was even more rare than the conversation. Lynn couldn’t marvel at that phenomenon for too long though, because John was asking for some additional clarification on an item, and she had to go to the back to get one of her reference books.  
  
By the time she returned, Dean had wandered down the aisle toward some of her more interesting artifacts, and she saw him stop rather abruptly in front of a pair of Tiki idols that really _did_ have reproduction enhancing properties. He stared at them for a bit and then moved away cautiously, and Lynn cocked her head. She knew from experience that John was completely tone deaf when it came to sensing power, but maybe his son wasn't.  
  
She stole a quick glance at John, who was still leafing through the reference book she’d brought him, and then she turned her attention back to his son. She didn’t normally do this sort of thing without the subject’s knowledge, but she had a feeling that if Dean knew what she was up to, he’d close up tight and she wouldn’t get anything. And she was curious enough to fudge a little - or okay, maybe a lot - on the ethics.  
  
Picking the streetlamp outside as a focus point, she took a breath and centered, reaching out with as small a tendril of power as she could manage. If she was right, anything more and he might feel what she was doing, and if she was wrong, well… she shouldn’t really be doing it in the first place.  
  
But she _was_ right and that surprised her more than a little. But something seemed out of balance; like an important connection had been stretched too far or severed….which in turn got her curious about the brother at college. And about their mother, especially given what had happened to her. Pulling her focus back as gently as she’d sent it out, she also wondered whether John knew, or if he didn’t see it just like he didn’t see a lot of things.  
  
A few new customers were starting to trickle in and John glanced up just as Dean was leaning down to take a closer look at some of Ria’s pieces. “Dean,” the boy didn’t exactly leap to attention, but the effect was practically the same. “Be careful over there. There’s a lot of stuff in here you don’t wanna be messing with.”  
  
“Yes sir.” And that apparently was all it took to put an end to the boy’s curiosity. Lynn tried to quell her disappointment, but she’d have been quite interested to see how he reacted to some of Ria’s more esoteric work. She consoled herself by thinking that maybe there’d be another time. And maybe even a time when his father wasn’t around and she might get a chance to talk to him.  
  
If his showing up today and John actually introducing him to her was any indication, maybe Caleb was also right about John finally relaxing some of his more stubborn practices. It seemed to Lynn, though, that with Sam already gone, maybe it was a case of too little, too late.  
  
Dean had finally managed to work his way over to Carl’s workbench - Lynn had been wondering how long it would take him to try and sneak a look. She just hoped the boy had on a suit of armor under the denim jacket, because dealing with Carl in any fashion was not for the faint of heart.  
  
But Dean seemed like he could handle himself well enough, and she imagined that if growing up with John Winchester prepared you for anything, it was dealing with difficult people. Lynn saw Carl scowl at him as he came back to his desk. He hadn’t been around for the introduction so she didn’t think Carl knew who was invading his sanctuary, but given the givens maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.  
  
“So what do you think?” John’s rumbly drawl drew her attention back and she realized she’d been caught staring, and despite the vagueness of the question, she knew exactly what he meant. But the fact that he asked made her feel a little awkward considering what her train of thought had been.  
  
“He looks nothing like you,” she answered with a grin, and pulled the stool up from behind her and sat.  
  
“Heh,” she was glad that got a chuckle. “There’s at least a little of me in him; he’s stubborn as hell. But yeah, he’s really more like his mother.” Lynn would have expected to see tiny fairies cleaning the cobwebs from her ceiling before she ever thought she’d hear John Winchester sound sentimental, but there it was, with full technicolor accompaniment right in front of her.  
  
“You taking him around with you now, then?” she asked, figuring if John was feeling chatty she could certainly oblige him.  
  
“Yeah, seems like it’s time, I guess,” he glanced back over his shoulder where Dean was leaning against the wall next to Carl’s desk watching with rapt attention as Carl worked on the delicate mechanism of an old pocket watch. The afternoon sun was coming into the shop now, side lighting everything with a golden glow, and though Lynn was practically old enough to be the boy’s grandmother, she wasn’t too old to notice he did make an awfully pretty picture.  
  
John stiffened a little as he looked at the boy and she wondered if his thoughts echoed hers. That certainly would complicate matters in certain places and she didn’t envy John the concern that must cause him. And with Carl not only _not_ shooing him away with the business end of a broom – which she had seen him do on more than one occasion – but actually taking the time to explain whatever it was he was doing…oh yes, John definitely had his hand full with that one, because in Lynn experience, anyone who could charm _Carl_ was dangerous as hell.  
  
A bright flash of yellow out on the street caught her eye and suddenly reminded her, “Carl, I just saw Kyle’s truck. He’s got that shipment of incense. Will you make sure they got it right this time before he leaves?” Carl waved an annoyed hand in her direction, but got to his feet. And Dean, being no longer engaged in heaven knew what conversation with Carl, returned to his father’s side.  
  
“I’m almost done, son. I’ve just got a few more items to check.” John almost sounded conciliatory, which, along with everything else about John today, almost had Lynn muttering ‘christo’ under her breath. But Dean just nodded and drummed his fingers on the counter to some pattern that sounded vaguely familiar.  
  
He kept his eyes on the street outside. Traffic was starting to pick up with the afternoon rush hour, but from the angle she had, she could see him sneaking a few furtive glances at the display case up front. So… the curiosity wasn’t completely dead after all. For some reason, that delighted Lynn immensely, and she was even more tickled when he eventually moved down the counter again.  
  
From some of the things Caleb, and even Jim, had told her when they needed a safe place to vent some John Winchester sized frustrations, she’d never been sure either boy would survive long enough for her to ever actually see them, but now that she’d seen even just the one, she knew she’d never be able to hear any of those stories again without wanting to wring John’s neck. And even knowing that’s what was urging her actions now, she didn’t care. She eased up off her stool and followed him.  
  
He’d stopped again in front of the case where she kept all Ria’s work and held his hand out similar to the way you would if you were feeling for warmth. Moving a little quicker, she made sure to position herself so she was in the sightline between Dean and John and then asked as casually and as softly as she could, “Anything in particular interest you?" Ria had some damn fine protection talismans and Lynn was bound and determined to get at least one of them into Dean’s hands before he left, no matter what John’s feelings on the subject were.  
  
He met her eyes with more wariness than she had hoped to see and shoved his hands deep in his pockets, but he didn’t move away. Instead he surprised her again, “Caleb said that you sometimes carried things that could be… helpful. On a job.”  
  
Trying to keep the flutter in her stomach from showing on her face, Lynn nodded. “That I do. And pretty much anything in there would fit that category.” She’d noticed the ring he had on earlier along with a few other pieces of jewelry, and now she’d gotten a good look at the really nice leather bracelet of Celtic knot work on his wrist. She did a minor reevaluation – maybe the leash John had him on wasn’t quite as tight as she’d thought.  
  
His eyes scanned the case again, but instead of reaching for something, he asked, "What's that thing in the box. The thing with the face?"  
  
Lynn decided it was time to stop being surprised and get with the program. She reached into the case to get it since she saw he had no intention of picking it up himself, and held it in front of him by it’s leather cording. “It’s made by a local artist who is a very good friend of mine.”  
  
He narrowed his eyes as he took in the details, but he kept his hands in his pockets, “Is it supposed to be something? It doesn’t look like anything I know.”  
  
Lynn shrugged, trying to keep things as matter-of-fact as possible, “You never know with Ria,” which was a monumental sized understatement, “It could be based on something specific, but she didn’t tell me if it was. Knowing her, it could just be an interpretation of an image she saw in a dream. But the protection properties are as solid as they come.”  
  
Finally he took his hand out of his pocket and held it out for her to drop the amulet into it. Power flared brightly as soon as it touched his palm, and she was certain he felt it too since it clearly made him jump. He shot a quick glance at his father, who was fortunately too busy packing stuff away to have noticed anything, and went back to studying it, rubbing his thumb gently over the contours of the face.  
  
Lynn spared a little energy and found that the out-of-balance-ness, or whatever it was, that she’s felt earlier didn’t seem anywhere near as pronounced now, and she sent a silent, but fervent thank you to Ria.  
  
“How much?” he asked without taking his eyes off of it.  
  
Lynn smiled her most grandmotherly smile. “Consider it an incentive bonus for frequent customers,” she said, reaching out to gently close his fingers over the smooth gold. He gave her a puzzled frown, but nodded his thanks as John came up beside him holding out a small wad of $20s for his purchase. She gave Dean another reassuring smile, squeezed his hand a little more firmly this time, and said, “You take care now, you hear? And you too, John.”  
  
“We will. Thanks again, Lynn.” And they were out the door.  
  
Carl’s irritated mutterings as he came back in with the order book under his arm saved her from wistfully watching them drive out of sight like the ending to some dime-store western paperback, and she was immensely grateful for that.  
  
“They mess it up again?” she asked.  
  
“You’d think they might actually hire someone who knew basic math to pull their orders, but apparently it’s more important for them to have a properly aspected astro sign instead,” Carl growled, but before he went on he glanced up and looked around the store, “Do you know that boy that was in here?”  
  
“You mean Dean? Yeah, he just left with his father.”  
  
“With his father? Who’s his father?”  
  
Lynn pointed meaningfully to where John had been parked for more than an hour.  
  
“ _That_ was Winchester’s boy?” Carl hesitated, like he just couldn’t reconcile that as a fact. “ _John_ Winchester?”  
  
She nodded, working to keep a straight face at the utterly perplexed look on Carl’s.  
  
He frowned and narrowed his eyes, like he thought she might be purposely pulling his leg for some reason. When he finally believed that she wasn’t he gave her one sharp, decisive nod, “Huh, boy must take after his mother.”

 


End file.
